


Los Simuladores

by Leni



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-17 04:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: Four men work together to solve problems for their clients... in creative ways.(One-shot collection)“If you throw that snowball at me…”- Rumbelle"You got me a Christmas present?"- Rumbelle + Jefferson"No, no. The antlers are essential!"- Belle & David“You put eggnog on your cereal?”- Ella & Mary MargaretRumbelle + Viktor





	1. The Bear (prelude)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatVermilionFlyCatcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatVermilionFlyCatcher/gifts).



> Watching Los Simuladores isn't necessary, but highly recommended.
> 
> p.s. I blame @thatvermilionflycatcher and @thestraggletag. It's totally their fault.

David looked up from his tablet, fingers frozen on the keyboard, and blinked in confusion. “A bear?”

To his horror, Gold nodded.

“A teddy bear? Stuffed bear?” He already dreaded calling his contact at the zoo, but hope died hard. “I can get some realistic bear costumes.”

Gold raised an eyebrow, unused to one of his friends second-guessing his choices for a job. “Just a bear, dearie.”

“Fine.” David resigned himself to a ride with his sister-in-law. She’d never miss trading insults with Gold behind the scenes. “But when you’re tempted to squeeze Ella’s neck, remember it was your call.”

 

 

The End  
28/05/18


	2. The Bear (prelude)

Jefferson had jammed open the liquor cabinet, but it was Viktor who poured the best whiskey liberally into his shot glass. “It’s not working,” he announced to the team. “I’ve worked my best on this guy; I even convinced Ruby to flirt with him without gouging out his eyes - we owe her and Dorothy a spa session, by the way. Nothing.” He tossed back his drink, then glanced at Gold. “He still wants your flower girl.”

“Miss French,” Gold responded, ignoring Viktor’s attempt to tease him, “is resolute. She has no interest in your new friend. Since he won’t take her word for it, the lady has hired us to drive the point home.”

“Perhaps he’s in love,” David ventured.

The other three men stared at him, their reactions a clear mirror of their thoughts on that suggestion.

David shrugged his shoulders, grabbing the bottle by the neck to fill his own shot glass. “I’m being a fool again?”

Viktor nodded, while Gold only shook his head. Jefferson, however, hooted a laugh and walked over to the younger man to throw an arm over his shoulder in enthusiastic camaraderie. “I like having an optimistic around here at last!”

Gold crinkled his nose, but avoided comment. His ears were still ringing after Miss French had taken him to task for scoffing at her bright-eyed notions of romance. To himself, he could concede that it wasn’t his place to scold someone for still believing in an innate kindness in every human being - as long as it didn’t affect his job. “Mr. Gaston’ feelings are not our client’s concern. That he takes her every negative as a challenge, however, is ours.” He shook his head when David offered him a drink. “In order to keep him away from Game of Thorns in the long term, it must be he who desists. Distraction hasn’t worked - and I know you tried your best, Doc - so now we must be imaginative.”

“David poses as Belle’s new boyfriend and scares Gary off.”

Gold raised an eyebrow at Jefferson’s suggestion. “Please say that you’re kidding.”

Jefferson grinned. “All right. Then you pose as her boyfriend and-”

“No.”

Viktor sniggered. “Tempting as it is to support Hatter’s idea, if only to watch the fireworks, I want this to be over so I never have to think about that bore again. If I must hear him ramble about basketball again…” He clicked his fingers. “What if he bets too high? Not getting beaten up by Zee’s monkeys would be a nice incentive to get out of the country.”

David shook his head. “We’re not welcome in the Underworld anymore.”

“With the kind of money Gary throws about? Please. Hades will roll out the red carpet and keep the wife on her leash.”

“Too risky,” David insisted.

Gold looked thoughtful, but then he shook his head. “No. He might cover the bet.”

“And the Underworld is too dangerous,” David tried once more, but again he was ignored. “Maybe if Gaston thinks that the woman he likes is actually a dangerous spy…”

Viktor shook his head. “No, not that. He’d love it!”

“Blackmail?”

“Miss French has stipulated no lasting damage - either physical or psychological. I’m sure harming the man’s reputation was implied.”

“She’s too good for you,” said Jefferson, always smiling.

“And terrible for us,” Viktor remarked. “That leaves us almost no room to work. What are we supposed to do? Strap the guy to a chair until he gives in?”

Gold’s lips tilted up.

Jefferson clapped. “A kidnapping! We haven’t done one of those in too long!”

“And we still aren’t.” Gold grabbed one of the glasses and raised it toward Viktor. “But your idea has merit. Except that instead of forcing him into place, you’ll convince Mr. Gaston that he needs a spa session, complete with a full body massage.”

Viktor gaped. “Oh dear.”

Jefferson sat down hard on the lowest available seat. “The dragon…”

As the newest member, David remained clueless. “Is there a problem?”

“No, of course not!”

“Not at all!”

Since Viktor’s and Jefferson’s reassurances fell wide off the mark, David turned to their leader. “What’s so scary about a massage?”

Gold smirked. “Nothing at all. In fact, it’s a place where a man can learn a lot about the female mind, if he stays quiet and listens.”

“You mean, where a man will swallow whatever tale you spin for him, as long as Mallory or one of her girls do the telling.”

“Suggestion works wonders, Doctor. If Mr. Gaston happens to overhear about how young ladies who play hard to get are always laughing about the men who pursue them behind their backs, well. Then it would be a pity if he saw Miss French attend the same establishment, and get along with the same ladies he’s just heard gossiping.”

“He’d hate to think himself the butt of a joke.”

“Like I said,” said Gold, giving a rare wide smile, “such a pity.”

 

The End  
12/09/18


	3. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @thatvermilionflycatcher asked Rumbelle + ‘Could you stop doing that?’

Belle felt Gold’s hooded gaze on her as she crossed the room to join the group at the table, but she pretended not to notice. She had offered her friendship and he’d slapped it away; if he wanted to make amends, he could step up and say something instead of trying to stare her into giving him an opening.

Her stomach still clenched into an unpleasant knot when the door snapped closed and her ears caught the faint sound of his cane against the floor as he headed to his private quarters.  _Coward_ , she thought, still seething at having served as the target of his undeserved tirade. He might be sorry, but until she heard an actual apology, Belle wanted nothing to do with the horrible man.

So intent was she on ignoring Gold, that Jefferson’s words, coming from a few inches away, caught her by surprise.

“Could you stop doing that?”

Belle glanced at him, at a loss as to his meaning. Her puzzlement grew when the other two men, far from dismissing their partner’s question as they often did when Jefferson’s love for needless drama peeked out, joined in the plea with nods of their own. She fidgeted, disconcerted at being the target of their concerted interest outside of an operation. “Stop doing… what?”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “This thing,” he said, emphasizing the vagueness of the term with an exasperated wave of his hand, “you and Gold have going on. It was funny in the beginning, but now it’s just sad.”

“There’s nothing going on." Unfortunately, her voice sounded irritated to her own ears. “In any case,-” she plugged in her laptop and connected it to the projector- “I found something that will help us get our client in the good graces of his future father-in-law. Mr. Fisher might claim to have no liking for music, but he’s saved a few videos of Mrs. Fisher dragging him onto a karaoke stage. I think-”

Jefferson grabbed her wrist before she could click the file open. “Yes, Beauty. Your hacking skills will save the day again, but why don’t we focus on you for once.”

Belle shuddered at the idea. “Let’s not.”

The brief struggle for the laptop mouse ended when the equipment abruptly turned off.

The projector plug in hand, David stood over them, looking exasperated. “Hatter, don’t be a baby. She will talk when she’s ready.”

Belle was about to thank him for his tact, but Viktor spoke first:

“No, she won’t.” He gave Belle an unapologetic stare, daring her to contradict him. “They’re made from the same cloth, she and Gold. Whatever is bothering her, she’ll either find a solution or let it fester, but God forbid she asks for help.” He leaned back into his chair, balancing his weight on the two back legs and pushing off into a rocking motion by pressing his feet against the table leg. “See? I told you it would be useless,” he said to Jefferson and David, his smirk entirely too smug for Belle’s taste. “She’s the suffering kind.”

Belle glared back at him. “No, I’m not.”

Viktor laughed. “Tell that to someone who hasn’t seen you mope around all week. What gives, Beauty?” He gave her his best impression of a concerned physician. “Gold didn’t live up to his end of the bargain, so to speak?”

Belle didn’t understand his meaning until Jefferson chimed in:

“Not Mr. Punctilious. He’d never leave a lady hanging.” He took advantage of Belle’s bewildered spluttering to grab her hand and pat it comfortingly. “Now, now. No need to look embarrassed, my lovely friend. You’re among family. Your secret stays here.” He leaned forward, his voice kept low. “He finished too quickly, didn’t he?”

Belle felt her cheeks burn. “What? No!”

“No shame in it,” Jefferson continued, as if they discussed Belle’s sex life often. “It happens to the best of us.”

Viktor snorted. “Speak for yourself, Hatter. Charming?”

David flushed, but his quick look away spoke for itself. “Never mind that,” he said out loud, coming again to separate Jefferson from Belle. “You two apologize to Belle - I mean, to Beauty, at once. Her personal life is none of our business.”

“When it affects Gold, it affects us,” Jefferson protested, while Viktor bit off more practically, “Everyone’s private life is our business, boy.”

“We could ask Gold for his input,” David warned, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.

The other two groaned, but even though David was the youngest among them, they fell in line and grunted their apologies.

Belle felt her anger rise, and was tempted to grab her computer and walk far from this group of men who had so little respect for boundaries. Then she remembered what had drawn her to work with them in the first place: they always thought outside the box, and they didn’t shy away from the less lady-like aspects of her personality or her need to root around for every last nanobyte of information.

It was too soon to consider them friends, but at last she was a freak in a group of freaks.

A show of acceptance, she supposed, was adequate.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she told them, taking measured breaths to keep her voice steady. “Gold and I are business partners, just like you are to him. Nothing more.”

Three pairs of eyes fixed on her with incredulity.

“Christ. It’s worse than I imagined,” said Jefferson, looking aghast right before he bumped his forehead against the table. “We’re doomed!”

Viktor grabbed his shoulder and righted him up. “Save the melodrama for tonight’s job, idiot. At least now we know why he’s been looking as if he’s about to devour somebody.” He glanced over at Belle to make sure she’d gotten his meaning, then gave Jefferson another shake. “This is good.”

“It is?”

“Sure,” said Viktor. “Gold isn’t angry. He isn’t nursing a bruised ego over some underperformance. He’s just…” Just in time, he caught David’s warning gaze. It took a few seconds for him to discard several obscene options. “Itching”

Now it was Jefferson’s turn to slap him over the head. “You’re such an ass, Doc. Does she look like a tick?” He swatted at Viktor again, hitting a different place since Viktor’s hands couldn’t protect the whole area. “Itching, indeed.”

Belle giggled at their antics, but still shook her head. “It’s really not like that.”

“He likes you,” David said, his voice low and earnest. Unlike Belle, he didn’t startle when Jefferson and Viktor rolled onto the floor and continued their grappling there. “He’s never actually let anyone else into this room, outside the three of us. He could have requested that you email the information, but instead he invited you in.”

Belle looked away. “I kind of blackmailed him into that…”

Viktor and Jefferson came to a sudden halt, whirling their heads in her direction. Even David was openmouthed, and he had to swallow before he could speak again. “Blackmail?”

Belle thought quickly. “I threatened to expose the group,” she told them, feeling lousy for deceiving them with the truth. A promise, however, was a promise. Gold’s family was his secret to keep. “I’m sorry.”

The men didn’t look offended at all. After the last couple of months, Belle knew that they were used to similar threats on a constant basis.

“Well, fuck me sideways,” Viktor said, eyebrows high with shock, “Gold must really like you. I mean, I knew he wanted to— ouch, Charming! I was going to say, scratch an itch. Honest.”

“There isn’t an honest bone in you, Doctor. Not when you’re talking to a woman.” David relaxed his grip on Viktor’s shoulder anyway, though a last squeeze reminded the other man not to say more. “He’s right, though,” he told Belle, lips curving into a good-humored smile. “Gold likes you.”

“Doubtful.”

“You know, lovely girl. There’s an easy way to test our theory.” Jefferson grinned, just as he did when he uncovered the information that would serve as a fulcrum upon which to lever an operation. “Jump the guy, and see what happens.”

Belle squeaked, tripping over her own tongue to refuse such insane advice.

“We can bet on it,” piped in Viktor, looking eager at the chance.

Her silence, apparently, was being taken as agreement.

Even David looked thoughtful. “Important matters deserve a frontal approach, he always says,” he reminded her. “Don’t you think this is important enough?”

“Yes!” she snapped. “And he already told me he’s not interested, okay.” When they looked doubtful, Belle sighed and told all, “I wanted to be friends, he said no. Emphatically.”

The guys were wincing. But not in sympathy with her.

“Friends?” Jefferson shook his head. “That’s cold, Beauty.”

“I’d be a wreck, too,” Viktor agreed.

David twisted his mouth as if he’d bitten into something unpleasant. “I’m sure you meant well,” he told her, “but put yourself in his shoes for a minute. You meet someone interesting-”

“And hot,” Viktor added.

“-and attractive,” David said, glaring at the other blond, “and you let them into your life, and your secrets; and you open your house to them, and give them a reason to come back - and this person just wants to be friends?”

Belle huffed. “I didn’t  _just_ —” She thought back to that conversation. Had she ever implied that she was looking for a springboard into a more serious relationship, or just played it safe? “Oh, crap.”

“It’s all right,” David told her, giving a reassuring smile. “You’ll make it better.”

Belle also remembered the aftermath of the conversation - no, it hadn’t been a conversation by the end; it had been an argument, and Gold had been a nasty beast. “Oh no,” she told his friends, confident that they’d pass on the message, “this ball is not in my court. As soon as Gold apologizes, well, we’ll see.”

 

The End  
29/04/17

 

 


	4. “No, no. The antlers are essential!”

“No, no. The antlers are essential!” Belle cried out when David reached up to pull the horrible example of taxidermy from the wall. “He must feel at home here. Haven’t you seen his place?”

David’s help hadn’t been essential during their first job on Gary Gaston, but he did remember the pictures Jefferson had taken of the man’s bedroom.

He would have nightmares if he spent the night as the focus of half a dozen dead animals staring at him through their glossy, fake eyes.

“You have a point,” he said, giving an apologetic shrug to the other woman in the small living room. “Sorry, Miss Eve. The deer stays.”

Delicate pink lips trembled.

“You want Gaston to take note of you,” Belle reminded their surprise client. And in a lower voice, she added for David’s benefit, “and it’ll take the heavy artillery to break through that thick skull of his.”

David snorted.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Cookie.” Belle motioned at David to angle the antlers to the right, adding a thumbs-up when the position was perfect. “You’ll tell Gaston you found it in a flea market and, when he mentions his own collection, you’ll ask him for help to choose a better one. It will be a perfect first date. I promise.”

David sighed, aware he’d be the one providing the wares for the stall in question.

“He does like to be helpful,” Cookie said with an enamored sigh.

She had been christened Eve, the most fortunate among her sisters as to parental choice for biblical names. This reprieve hasn’t stopped her from claiming a different name once she took to the stage - even if the stage in question featured in bars and not-so-select gentlemen clubs. She was so attached to her new moniker that she often forgot to respond to her given name.

Belle doubted that Gaston even wondered at the unusual choice.

“He’s so sweet,” Cookie continued, “he’s always telling these stories. Not the boring ones that guys use, but real adventure and stuff. He’ does like hunting.” Her words were a bit mumbled through the nibbling on a long, studded nail. Her teeth came so close to the emerald-toned stone that Belle considered issuing a choking hazard warning, but Cookie was long past such amateur mistakes. “Yes. The deer stays. Deli or Magda would never think of it, and they’ll be spitting nails when they see Gary is with me. Thank you!”

David and Belle exchanged a look.

In their opinion, catching Gaston’s eye was a sisterly competition with the worst prize in history. Any hint in that direction, however, had prompted such resolute blank looks that both had given up on their advice taking root.

Some blind spots refused to see the light.

“Just remember,” Belle added, “don’t sleep with him again. Make any excuse, but string him along until he’s committed to a second date.”

Cookie blinked, at a loss. “What kind of excuse?”

“You’ve got a headache. Dinner didn’t agree with you. You’ve got to take your cat to the veterinary early the next day….” David trailed off when he noticed that women were staring at him. He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Not that I’ve heard  _all_  of them in person.”

Belle giggled.

Cookie looked amused as well, and gave David a shameless once over. “Some girls don’t know what’s good for them.”

David blushed. “Thank you, Miss Eve.”

“He’s single, you know,” Belle chimed in.

David glared murder, but Belle ignored him. Cookie wasn’t best friend material, but the woman was sweet in her own, loud way. She deserved better than Gaston.

“Great!” said Cookie. “Magda loves tall blonds. If you’ve got a brother, we can set him up with Delilah and the six of us can go out together. That’d be cute.”

David coughed.

Belle tried not to burst out laughing. “He is single. His brother isn’t.”

“If he doesn’t mind,” Cookie said with a pragmatic shrug, “Deli won’t care either.”

“Ah,” David managed after a stunned pause. “My sister-in-law would.”

Ella on a jealous rampage was a subject begging a quick change. “You and your sisters will be seeing the same guy forever unless you listen to me. No sleeping with Gaston, okay?”

Cookie made a face, but if reluctant, her nod was firm. “If it worked for you,” she decided, eyeing Belle as if to measure what else had drawn Gaston’s eye. “Think a sundress would help?”

Belle looked down at herself. Her pale green dress with the wide skirt and the silver buttons at the front was one of her favorites. Compared to Cookie’s tight blue jeans, silky emerald blouse, and bright red sandals, her outfit looked girlish. It would look gorgeous against Cookie’s blond shoulder-length curls, but she doubted that the other woman would feel comfortable in it. “No. Keep to your style.” Given the wide berth Gaston had given her in the last year, it would be for the best that Cookie didn’t remind him of Belle. “He won’t care about your clothes, anyway. Just smile, tell him how smart he is, and he’ll come back for more.”

“That’s when I sleep with him?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Belle sighed. “Just make sure he’s agreed to a third date, at least.”

Cookie’s perpetual grin widened. “A third date… Wow. I’m so glad I saw you again!” She lifted her hand into a pinky swear. “And just like I said, after this, I never ever knew Lacey in my life before.”

Belle made herself smile. At least Cookie had been smart enough not to cause a fuss during the simulation, and came by later to claim her reward.

“Thank you. I trust you’ll be discrete.” Otherwise, she’d have to eat crow and admit that Gold should have handle this from the moment she’d been recognized. “Now-” she pointed at the absurdly sized hunting scene in its thick frame “-let’s keep working on the decoration.”

  
The End  
23/12/18


	5. The Bear

The game was simple: each man named an outlandish item, and Belle had to guess which one hadn’t been included in a simulation. If she guessed right, the guys had a shot; if she was wrong, she and Gold - who’d placed himself on her team and shared her fate - drank instead.

Her current choices were two dozen coffins, a live bear, and a dinosaur fossil.

Having heard about the vampire simulation, as well as having the distinct memory of a befuddling paleontology discovery in the news last year, this time Belle was so certain of her answer that Jefferson’s head shake made her gasp. “You’re kidding! A bear. You actually used a bear?”

“Don’t remind me,” David groaned. “Ella still yells at me for almost getting one of her precious babies killed.” He sounded miserable, as he often did when he talked about his twin and his twin’s wife. “But how could I have known Fergus hid a gun in his fake leg?”

“Oh no!”

“The bear didn’t get a scratch,” Gold told her, patting her back when she would have started to fret over the poor animal. “Ella just likes to make a fuss so she can demand more money when we need her help.”

Belle didn’t need to ask to know that those demands never bore fruit. Her boyfriend kept a careful ledger of payments and favors owed, and didn’t let anyone take more of his time or money than what they deserved.

“A bear,” she said, too familiar with the quartet’s methods to hold onto her shock. “Sounds like madness. Did it at least work?”

The question earned four offended stares.

Belle laughed. “Right. Of course it did.” She poured the scotch for herself and Gold, then clinked her shot glass to his. “To mad ideas that succeed”- as if on its own, her free hand went to play with his tie pin, lingering over his chest -“and the man who thinks of them.”

Gold dipped his head in acknowledgment, and though the alcohol imbibed didn’t make him quite as disinhibited, his smile was warmer than he’d usually allow in public.

“Hey,” Jefferson protested. “There’s more than ‘thinking’ to make a successful job!”

“Don’t bother,” said Viktor, tipping back a drink even though it wasn’t his turn. “They’re off in their little world.”

David chuckled. “I think it’s sweet.”

“They can save it for when they’re alone.” Viktor, who had once slept with a prostitute in the middle of a job, while the surveillance was on, rolled his eyes with impatience. The hypocrite. “Hey, you two, get a room.”

To the surprise of the three younger men, Gold nodded at the suggestion. “Excellent idea.” His voice was polite, but it brooked no argument. “It is nearing midnight, and it’s been a long day. I’d hate to see you short on your rest tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t need to—” David started, only to clamp his mouth shut when Gold’s eyes narrowed in warning.

Belle was biting her lower lip, a bright blush on her cheeks. She didn’t move from her position next to her boyfriend, though, apparently just as fond of the idea of privacy.

“No need to show us out,” Jefferson completed David’s sentence smoothly, as if it couldn’t possibly have been meant in any different direction. “We know the way.” He sprang to his feet, pulling Viktor by the hand, and motioning at David to rise as well. “Don’t we, boys?”

Belle waved at them, pretending not to see Viktor’s smirk or Jefferson’s thumbs-up. “Have a good night, guys.”

“Hopefully as good as yours, love!” Jefferson sang back, yelping and laughing as David hit him in the back of his head for it.

“They’re terrible,” Belle whispered when their voices finally drifted away. Her hands, however, cared little for the retreating men. They were already busy untangling the knot at Gold’s throat, happier to get rid of his tie than they had been playing with it. “And you, Rum, are a terrible host.” She grabbed both ends of the tie and pulled him so close that their chests touched. “Midnight indeed! I bet it’s not even ten.”

Gold smirked without a shadow of guilt. “Didn’t hear you protest, sweetheart.” He leaned down to rub the tip of his nose against hers. “Should I call them back?”

Belle tugged down, directing him into a hard kiss. “Don’t you dare.”

  
The End  
28/05/18


	6. Will Scarlet

The attack came from behind, wrapping the couple into an exuberant hug that threatened to become a curled-up form in the pavement until Belle caught the hand that was already aiming a cane at Will’s kidneys.

“Thank you!” Will cried - actually cried, there were tears on his eyes - as he tightened his hold on them, oblivious to the danger of showering his reluctant benefactor in unwelcome gratitude. “You’ve accomplished miracles tonight. Miracles!”

Rum tried to shoulder his way out of Will’s hug, but Will had always been stubborn in his affections. That was, after all, what had brought them here, making sure that the opening night of his theater play was a success so he could convince Anastasia that he wasn’t the petty thief she remembered from their brief high school romance.

Belle didn’t try to escape her fate, always comfortable with physical demonstrations, but was wise enough to quiet her boyfriend’s demons of insecurity by pressing closer to him. “The script was already amazing, Will; you should be proud.” The flicker in his eyes told her what they already knew; but if his friend preferred to remain anonymous, that was between them. “All we did was to make sure that Mr. Glass was present and in the right frame of mind to appreciate your work.”

“And provide decent actors,” Rum added, with more of a bite than the reminder deserved. The tone earned him a reproaching look from Belle, and Will’s eyes widened with hurt pride. Rummond studied the younger man and chuckled to himself, recognizing the act for what it was. “Other than you, of course.”

His little thespian community would not suffer with the addition, much as he wasn’t fond of the prospect of working with one of Belle’s former boyfriends.

“Oh, that.” Will lifted his shoulders, as if Viktor learning the antagonist’s role in under the week, or maneuvering one of the Mayor’s pets were simple tasks. “Sure. The Mirror’s seal of approval will prove priceless to draw an audience, but I’m talking about Ana.” His eyes shone with happiness. “How did you convince her to come?”

Belle blushed.

The team had come up with an intricate plan to draw a young, rich widow to a night at a small theater. Belle had argued that subterfuge couldn’t be the best start to a renewed romance. After some debate she had convinced David and Jefferson to go along with her plan, which had given her the majority and somehow ended in her being elected to deal with Anastasia.

The meeting, to put it mildly, had been a catastrophe. Two headstrong women with opposite views and a personal attachment to the matter of contention, was not a recipe for a level-headed conversation.

In the end, experience had trumped idealism.

“It was all Rum,” said Belle truthfully.

This prompted another heartfelt squeeze - “Thank you, mate!” - while Rum gave Belle a look that wished she had taken the credit so he’d be safe from Will’s effusive hugs.

“I promised results,” Rum said once he recovered a couple inches of personal space. “It’s part of our service, William.”

“You promised me a successful premiere, that was it. That Ana was here to witness it…” Will grinned. “Whatever can I do to repay you? Just name it!”

Asking the boy to turn around and keep his distance in every meeting thereafter was on the tip of Rum’s tongue. He might even have managed a sliver of niceness.

Luckily, Belle spoke first: “Don’t worry about it,” she said, linking her arm through Rum’s and stepping back while drawing him along. Freedom at last! “We’ll let you know.”

 

 

 

The End  
01/06/18


	7. "harsh"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11/12 in the [ Twelve Days of Christmas](http://leni-ba.tumblr.com/post/181543205598/12-days-of-christmas).

Viktor paused in his ministrations as his elbow bumped into Gold again. With medical tweezers hovering over the affected area on Belle’s arm, he tilted his head toward his boss. “She’ll live, dumbass. Now let me work.”

Gold scowled, but he did step back, if only to walk around the bed and squeeze in between the other side of it and the wall. He looked over Belle, eyes shining with concern, and inhaled a quick breath when she winced in pain.  

“Be careful, Doc,” he hissed.

“Be silent,” Viktor returned, dropping another shard of glass into a nearby metal tray.

“You’re hurting her.”

“It’s all right,” said Belle, raising her free hand to hold Gold’s. The flat line of his lips softened as he glanced at her, and Belle smiled back as if half an hour before she hadn’t broken through a window with nothing but her shirt wrapped around her elbow. “Our friend is doing his job. Don’t be harsh.”

The tone was kind, but there was no doubt that the words were an order.

Gold shot a glare at Viktor, but relented. “Fine.”

Viktor’s turn came next, faced with a disapproving eyebrow before his smirk showed on his face. “And you, focus.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he muttered.

He suffered through another two minutes of the couple whispering to each other. If their conversation had covered the case, he wouldn’t have minded the distraction. Information on their new client was sparse, and details about the botched visit to the crazy aunt might have helped him figure out how to hook up with Miss Tall, Mean, and Blonde.

Instead, Belle and Gold exchanged quiet words of love and reassurance.

“Enough,” he interrupted, pointing the tweezers between the two. “This is a damn examining room, not your bedroom. If you need to make eyes at each other so badly…” He fumbled as he saw Belle blush. Aw, shit. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her. It was so easy to forget that Belle wasn’t thick-skinned like Gold. “Just don’t,” he finished weakly, returning to his task.

“We’re sorry.”

That was Belle.

Gold, of course, scoffed. “Not me, sweetheart.” Then, to Viktor, “You’ve got a terrible bedside manner, Doc.”

“You knew that when you rushed her here,” Viktor reminded him, aware that his contribution to the team wasn’t to be a doormat. Then he chuckled, because after all, they were friends. “Whatever. Next time I’m with you two, I’ll just remember to put one of you under.”

 

The End

28/12/18


	8. “I shouldn’t be this attracted to an elf.”

“I shouldn’t be this attracted to an elf,” Gold said, breaking character now that he and Belle were alone. He took in her outfit, lips curling in genuine amusement when he got to her pointy ears. “I’m sure the real Santa doesn’t have to deal with this. He’d be drowning in sexual harassment lawsuits all-year round.”

Belle laughed. “Scandal in the North Pole, will that be our next case?”

Gold’s answer was to stroke the shell of her ear, from the fake tips to the fleshy lobe which he flicked playfully. “I’m not taking any cases until after New Years. Santa deserves a vacation too.”

“Yes, you do,” Belle said. She pulled on the fake white beard so she could kiss him without being tickled by the wisps of cotton. “And this elf will tag along.” She giggled, glad to have confirmation that he’d like her surprise. “I got a costume of my own. One with some… modifications.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s just say it’s not apt for children.” She passed her hands over her chest to form a deep V. “You’ll like it.”

Gold was nodding before shed finished the sentence. “Sounds wonderful. And Belle?”

“Yes, Rum?”

“Wear the ears.”

The End  
11/12/18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Yes, please!


	9. “If you throw that snowball at me…”

“If you throw that snowball at me…”

His mind blanked at the thought of threatening his girlfriend, but Gold rallied enough to end the sentence in an ominous tone.

Belle passed the snowball from one hand to another, unimpressed. “You know how terrible my aim is, Rum. Even if I throw this snowball at you, it’ll miss you - and that would be a good thing.”

Gold bit down a grin at the look in her eyes. He had no idea where she was leading, but he recognized her attempt to play him.

“Then we’re agreed,” he said, feigning ignorance.

Belle nodded. “It would be a pity to ruin that suit,” she said, though her hands kept working to keep her weapon in shape. “There’s no time for you to change before we must leave for Jefferson’s party.”

The Christmas party he’d convinced himself to attend for the sake of Belle’s attachment to her new friends. The party that was at least three hours ahead.

Subtlety would never be Belle’s forte.

“I might get a cold, too.”

Belle nodded. “Then I’d have to stay with you. To nurse you through it.”

They smiled at each other.

“How lucky that tragedy can be avoided by keeping my distance.” Of course, Gold was already stepping forward as he said it. “And how very, very unlucky that I want to kiss you at this very moment.”

Belle laughed. “What bad timing,” she said, smearing the snowball down his sleeve at the same time Gold bent down to kiss her.

“Yes,” he whispered, disregarding the cold. “Just awful.”

 

The End  
25/11/18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are food for Musey. Please, please, feed us!


	10. "You got me a Christmas present?"

“You got me a Christmas present?” Jefferson grabbed the small box from Belle’s hand and picked at the bright blue ribbon before she or Gold could get a word in edgewise. “I can’t believe you actually got me something,” he said as he wrapped the length of silky material around his wrist, giving no thought to the fact that it clashed against his maroon suit. “I’m so touched I’ll even pretend you’re so late because you were picking something absolutely perfect.”

Belle smiled a little too hard. “We were.”

Jefferson looked up from where he was peeling off the clear tape without tearing the silver-and-white paper, his expression knowing. “A tip, little Beauty: don’t lie if you’re going to blush.”

“Just get it over with, Jefferson,” Gold grumbled, stressing his friend’s name as a reminder to drop their working aliases for the evening. “It’s not as if I’ve ever come empty-handed to your party.”

“If you came at all.”

“I’d send it ahead if work held me up.”

Jefferson lifted one shoulder, having heard the old excuse too many times. “You’re the boss. You held yourself up… on Christmas season. On purpose.”

“No idea why you’re complaining.” Gold stubbornly refused to admit the point. “You love that whiskey!”

Jefferson’s hand, still holding his gift, waved in dismissal. “If you want me to thank you for free alcohol, stop locking the best stuff in a cabinet. Or at least don’t change the lock so often.”

Belle whispered her boyfriend’s name, a sound that made Gold shift from an annoyed retort about people who turned work meetings into open bars to a deep breath. “We hope you enjoy our gift,” he said evenly, without even gritting his teeth.

Belle beamed, squeezing Gold’s arm as she nodded.

Jefferson gave the couple an amused look. “Love agrees with you, Gold,” he noted, though he followed the comment with a sly grin. “This new you is so… refreshing.”

The paper was folded with careful meticulousness, an act so out of character in their friend that Gold, aware that his patience was being tested, held tighter onto the handle of his cane while Belle giggled at the two of them.

Gold broke when Jefferson started folding the pieces of tape as well. “For Christ’s sake, Jeff!”

“Ah, there you are.” His laughter was tempered by having twin glares focused on him. He pouted, but not even Belle folded. “Moving on…”

At last free of its wrapping, the flat cardboard box looked unimpressive in Jefferson’s hand. He tilted his head, curious, then grinned and jiggled it next to his ear. “Fake I.D! Just in time. Awesome!” He laughed at their faces. “No? Aw. Let’s see what else sounds like paper.”

Belle glanced at Gold, silently asking whether their friend was in trouble.

Gold shook his head, though a tiny wrinkle of his nose indicated his feelings at Jefferson’s drama.

Both had no time to make a comment, as Jefferson gasped, let the box fall to the floor, and held the Polaroid snapshot to their faces, eyes wide with excitement. “Is this true? For real, true?” He readied himself to launch a three-way hug, but a warning look from Gold made him head for Belle alone. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He tugged her away from Gold, whirling the two of them in an impromptu waltz across the foyer.

“It’s in our house. You can pick it up anytime,” Belle told him, laughing. “We thought that way you had time to figure out how to surprise Gracie.”

“You’re amazing, Miss French. I humbly bow to our dear future Mrs. Boss.” He paid no mind to the sputtering his words caused. “I have no words! Well, actually…” Having made a complete circuit, he returned Belle to Gold’s side, and folded into a ridiculously low bow before her. “One word, my dears:  _How?_ ”

“We got lucky,” Belle said.

Jefferson shook his head, then turned to Gold. “That’s your story?”

Gold shrugged.

“Rumford Gold, you don’t fool me. You haven’t relied on luck since I met you.” He pointed at the stuffed white rabbit in the picture. “ _I’m_  lucky, and I’ve been looking for this bunny for months and gotten nowhere. So, I’ll ask again, how did you find Grace’s missing Mr. Ears?”

“A… friend’s… son attends the same school. He mentioned that lots of kids were losing stuff, mostly toys, though some cellphones and games too.” Belle glanced at Gold, but he only nodded for her to continue the story. “Rum and I, we posed as, um… We introduced ourselves as family members during a school event; the rest was fairly routine, really.”

Jefferson blinked. “That’s the big mystery?” He fake-coughed. “Who’s melodramatic now?”

“Nobody tried to be mysterious,” Belle pointed out, shaking her head when Jefferson sighed in resignation. “Like we said, it was mostly luck that pointed us in the right direction.”

“Well, I’m glad for the coincidence. Did the other kid recover his things, too?”

“…Other kid?”

“Your friend’s son.”

“Oh!” Belle looked at little flustered, but she answered after a brief pause. “Sure. We found his book.” Her hand searched for Gold’s, and her sweet smile said that their adventure had been a complete success. “To be honest, I think Henry mostly enjoyed having a grandfather around - especially one who took him for ice cream afterwards.”

Jefferson prided himself of a bountiful imagination. It stretched to encompass the thought of Gold pretending to be a doting grandfather.

Even with Belle in the picture, it was difficult to imagine his old friend with children of his own.

“Thank you again,” he said simply, unable to continue the conversation without teasing about the possibility of becoming parents for real, and unwilling to put her on the spot like that. “I hope you enjoy the party tonight!”

Belle grinned. “We will.”

Gold followed behind her, not quite frowning but nowhere near as excited as his girlfriend. In the soft way his eyes rested on her, however, Jefferson saw that as long as Belle had a good time, so would he.

 

  
The End  
20/12/18

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome!


	11. “You want marshmallows on that?”

“You want marshmallows on that?” Mary Margaret asked, hand motioning toward a dainty porcelain jars twin to the sugar bowl.

Belle hid a grin behind her mug at the appalled look on Ella’s face. She’d already seen the zoo veterinarian swallow choice words at the realization that her options of beverage tonight were chocolate or chamomile tea.

“No, thanks,” managed Ella, short, manicured nails tapping the bright sunflower that decorated the side of their mugs. “I’m so glad you insisted on this visit, darling,” she said to her new sister-in-law, and to Belle’s surprise, her smile was sincere. “You clearly need the company of people over ten.”

Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow as Ella pulled out a flask from an inner pocket of her ostentatious fur coat, but otherwise smiled at Ella’s comment. “I’m glad you could make it,” she said politely. “We really haven’t had the chance to get to know each other.”

Belle giggled, drawing their attention. “Sorry. I just remembered something.” Mainly, that neither woman had shown any interest in a meeting in the months since David’s engagement. Not wanting to raise the subject, Belle held up her mug and grinned widely. “You said marshmallows?”

Mary Margaret, always smiling, passed over the little jar.

The next moments passed as each stirred her chocolate with either rum or sugar. Almost furtively, Belle and Ella exchanged a glance, though Ella’s roll of her eyes was hardly discreet.

“You must be wondering why I invited you,” Mary Margaret cut into the silence, putting down her cup even though she hadn’t even touched the contents.

“God, yes,” said Ella, taking Mary Margaret’s question as permission to be blunt. “James’ little brother coming around all the time is bad enough, but now you as well? Family is just so exhausting.” She looked around the small kitchen, so fussily decorated, and sighed. “No offense, but can we at least go to a decent bar next time you want us to bond? Better yet, make it an indecent one. Belle used to work at this place….”

“I never worked at the Rabbit Hole,” Belle interrupted.

Ella gave an indifferent shrug. “You certainly made money there, with your hustling-”

“At pool!” Belle felt her cheeks redden, as they always did when the subject was drug up. The problem of being part of a group of people who dealt with secrets, was that eventually your own came out to the light - and when retold by James, they took on a suggestive air. “And Mary Margaret was trying to tell us something important before you derailed the conversation, Elle.”

Ella pursed her lips, doubting that possibility. With a sigh, she shifted her attention back to her sister-in-law. “I guess. What is it?”

“I need your help.”

“Sure!”

Ella raised a hand before Belle could continue. “Stop right there, little Miss Helpful. Don’t you want to know what you’re promising?” She made an exasperated sound. “How did you end up with Gold, I wonder.”

“This is David’s wife!”

“And they met, what, last month?” Ella retorted, unimpressed.

Belle meant to remind the other woman about the understanding of mutual help within their group. Mary Margaret, however, nodded and took a deep breath. “I know how to ruin Cora Mills.”

Ella swore.

Belle gaped, hoping to have misheard. Now there was a name she wished she’d never heard again. “Cora…?”

“No way,” Ella whispered. “Are you suicidal?”

“I can do it,” Mary Margaret insisted. “But I need help to get away with it.”

David had always been on her side, so despite her horror at the thought of Gold anywhere near that woman, loyalty forced Belle to say, “You should ask David to bring it up with the guys. They’ll help you.”

“About that….” Mary Margaret fiddled with her teaspoon, but she met Belle’s eyes. “David isn’t to find out.”

Belle gave up on surprise and moved on to damage control. 

Ella protested when she grabbed her flask, but gave an amused snort when Belle tipped the rum into her mouth. “All right,” she told Mary Margaret, resting an elbow on the table and cradling her chin in her hand; the picture of interest. “Just because you drove the golden girl to theft and alcohol, I’ll hear you out. Deal?”

“And because Cora could have gotten our husbands killed.”

“Oh, sure,” Ella said flippantly, though the hard edge in her eye belief her tone. “There’s that.”

The two women shared a grim smile, at last on common ground.

Belle looked between them and groaned. She had hoped to leave Cora Mills in the past. “I hope you brought more of this,” she muttered in Ella’s direction, taking another short swallow. “I’ll need it.”

 

The End  
28/11/18


	12. “You put eggnog on your cereal?”

“You put eggnog on your cereal? At midnight?” Ella grabbed the carton next to Mary Margaret’s elbow and sniffed at it. “It’s not even alcoholic.”

Mary Margaret huffed. “I know.” She glared at the spoon in her hand but stuck it in her mouth anyway. “It’s awful,” she mumbled, disregarding social conventions about chewing first, confident that her sister-in-law wouldn’t mind. “But so goooooood.”

Shaking her head, Ella leaned against one of the kitchen counters. The drawer closest to her produced a long, thin cigarette and a lighter; but she had just clicked it when she gave another glance toward Mary Margaret and rolled her eyes. “You’re so pregnant.”

Mary Margaret’s gaze shot up. “No, I’m not.”

“Please.” Cigarette and lighter disappeared into their hiding place. “You invite James and me over for a Christmas weekend, and you aren’t very fond of either of us.” She put a finger up when Mary Margaret would have denied that as well. “Hey, it’s all right. You’re nice to us, we’re nice to you. It works.”

“You’re not that nice.”

Ella grinned. “Exactly! Yet here we are, all stuck together because someone - that means, you - is pulling their family together. Nesting. Probably measuring the two of us for godparent material - which thank you, but no. I’d rather be the cool aunt, and James would drop the baby into the baptismal water, or swear in front of the priest. You don’t want us.”

“I’m not—”

“And you’re eating disgusting combinations with so much relish I must assume you’re not alone at the wheel anymore.” Ella pushed herself off and pulled a chair across the table from Mary Margaret. “So, my dear. Why the secrecy?”

There was a long beat of silence, which Ella broke impatiently after Mary Margaret took another mouthful of seasoned milk, raw eggs, and cheap cereal. “It is David’s, right?”

“Of course!”

Ella grinned. Shock often served to shake truths loose. “See, you are pregnant. Why aren’t you and David knitting booties or signing up for Lamaze classes or painting the nursery with singing bluebirds?”

Mary Margaret looked wistful. “I…”

“You haven’t told David?” Ella shook her head. “I support keeping some secrets from a husband - James certainly appreciates that. But this?”

“I’m not… I’m just…” Mary Margaret sighed. “Waiting.”

“For the baby to come home?” Ella lowered her voice. “Darling, even David is certain to notice before it comes to that.”

“No! Yes?” She took a deep breath. “I just want to make sure…. Look. None of you met my parents, but they loved children. Adored them. They would have raised a full house, had they been able to.”

Ella hid a wince. Whether at the idea of such a large brood, or where Mary Margaret’s tale was heading, she didn’t know.

Probably both.

“Even after I was finally born, Mom’s health was never the same. All it took was the smallest push, and she was gone.”

Ella had risen above her parents’ weakness and left them in the dust as soon as she was old enough. Though it earned a hurt look, she scoffed at Mary Margaret. “Stop being silly. You’re not your mother.”

“I know! But—”

“Even if you have the same troubles, it’s been decades. There’ll be something to make it better. Just ask Doc-” she paused, remembering too late that David had met Mary Margaret as one of Viktor’s cast offs. “Okay. Maybe not the lech. But my point stands.”

Mary Margaret gave a tiny smile. “Viktor is a better doctor than he was a boyfriend.”

“Oh, darling. That was your mistake. Doc has never been a boyfriend in his life.” Ella laughed. “Now, trash that soggy mess and go make James’s baby brother the happiest man alive. Be disgustingly ecstatic and have a perfect Christmas; we’ll watch.”

Mary Margaret laughed, less tense now that she’d shared her burden. “We’re not that bad.”

“You’re sickening, the two of you.” Ella shrugged her shoulders. “It’s okay. It made guessing there’d be a honeymoon baby real easy, and now half a dozen skeptics owe me money.”

“You bet on it?”

Far from scandalized, Mary Margaret sounded amused, so Ella smirked and tossed her hair back. “We’re also betting on whether Beauty will propose to our local Beast, or she’ll be patient enough to wait for Gold to do it. Want in?”

  
The End  
24/12/18


	13. The Nightmare

Rummond drew his girlfriend closer, kissing along her hairline and trying to project comfort rather than amusement.

He wasn’t successful.

“It’s not funny, Rum,” Belle complained, hitting light-heartedly at his chest but ending the motion by clutching at his pajama shirt. “You were dead.”

“No, I’m not,” Rummond pointed out logically. “I’m right here, hale and healthy. I’ve made too many sacrifices to keep this heart ticking, sweetheart.” He led her hand to rest above the mentioned organ, and both were silent as they felt the steady beat. “I’ve become very fond of living, so believe me when I say that it’ll be a cold day in hell before I give up my heart to the likes of Rogers.” He scowled at the idea. “I can be nice to the man, I guess, but that’s pushing it.”

Belle, who had watched the old enemies bond over the struggles of single fatherhood, and who’d once watched Rum step into the line of danger to protect his friends, kept her opinion to herself.

“Promise?” she said instead.

Rummond nodded without hesitation. “Of course,”- he laced their fingers together -“as long as you promise to stop dreaming that I die. It’s not happening, much less with you watching from the sidelines.” He smiled to show that he approved of her willingness to throw herself into action, even if it sometimes bordered on recklessness. “Admit it, Belle. The main flaw in this nightmare of yours was to have you waiting for me to catch up. You aren’t that patient, love.”

“I was dead too,” she mumbled grumpily.

That made him laugh again. “So? Wasn’t there magic in this dream, and hadn’t we wandered to the world of the dead before?”

Belle had to smile. He had listened to her recount of her nonsensical dreams enough to remember the details. “You had magic,” she corrected. “Not I.”

“Please. As if that would have stopped you.” His look of admiration made her blush. “You’d have found a solution. When I work my ‘magic’ but the job goes pear-shaped anyway, you always salvage the situation. That’s what you do, my love.”

Belle grinned, warm with pleasure, and leaned up to give him a quick kiss of gratitude.

Rummond seized the opportunity to put his arms around her waist and roll them around until he was staring up to her. “Still worried about your dream?”

Belle shook her head, then a playful light entered her eyes. “You know, Rum,” she said, nipping his jaw at the same time she rubbed her foot against his ankle and then up his leg. “There was one good thing in that last dream…”

Rummond caught on quickly. “Seriously?” Not even he was sure whether the sound he made was a snort or a groan. “I’m dead but I’m still wearing those damned pants?” Laughter, it was definitely laughter. “You’re an obsessed woman.”

Belle didn’t bother to deny it. “What can I say,”- her hands were already pulling at the drawstring around his waist -“leather looks good on you.”

 

The End  
24/05/18

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are amazing! Leave a comment, please. :)


End file.
